


The Late Train

by SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Distraction Kiss, F/M, Kiss Asks, asks, carwheeler - Freeform, kiss prompt, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 15:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash/pseuds/SpideychelleCarwheelerTrash
Summary: Anne comes up with a rather convincing reason why Phillip should take the late train.





	The Late Train

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kagee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagee/gifts).



> //Requested by the lovely @kagee on Tumblr for my kiss asks! If you want to influence the content that I create and receive more regular updates on my fics, drop ny my Tumblr @you-guys--are-losers.

He was leaving again, and it was far too soon for Anne. 

Phillip’s room in the show house was a mess, a far cry from the obsessive neatness that seemed to be the Carlyle ‘normal.’ Dresser drawers hung open like gaping maws, with crumpled, discarded shirts arranged into a mess of jagged teeth. Clothing that was normally folded tidily lay in piles all over the room, no one group of wrinkled articles seeming to have any real order to it. The briefcase on Phillip’s wooden desk was filled to brimming with a pile of orders and ticket sales and billing records, and Anne had no idea how Phillip intended to close it. She didn’t have any idea of much of anything at the moment, especially what might be going through the mind of the man with messy hair and tired blue eyes as he threw another shirt into the open suitcase on his bed. 

Was he dreading this as much as she was? 

Normally, at the end of the day, Anne and Phillip would be curled up in one of their beds to talk. She would ask him about how the show was going, and he would update her on which of Barnum’s crazy business dealings from the earlier years had reared its head that particular day. He would inquire about a new stunt she and W.D. were attempting, and Anne would explain the theory, how they practiced, and how far they were away from their goal. 

But tonight, Phillip was the only one anywhere near his bed, and he was not sleeping. He was sitting there, packing resolutely while Anne stood by his door with dread knotting into lumps in the pit of her stomach. 

“Phillip,” she finally found herself murmuring, “you’re certain you have to go? You couldn’t just… I don’t know. Maybe you could continue corresponding with them, that’s worked in the past-” 

Phillip glanced up for a moment, and his eyes seemed a million miles away when he looked into them. “No,” he murmured, pausing only a moment to run a hand through his hair. “We’ve tried that, for months. Nothing’s happened, and the situation requires me to be there to negotiate, otherwise I’m certain it won’t go in my favor. It’s what’s got to happen, and I need to get on the next train or I’ll arrive half past three in the morning.” 

Anne felt a frustrated pang in her chest as he looked away from her, returning to the pair of pants he had been folding. They were dress pants, the sort he had been wearing the day they first met– when she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him and he suspended all time, locking her in the air stories above the cold, hard ground. 

That was the first time she had ever felt so unsure while soaring above a crowd, and now, alone in his room, she felt uncertain even in front of her audience of two. 

Phillip was not looking on her, and she could see the little crease in his brow as he frowned at the clothing in his hands. Anne was frozen again, watching as the man she loved prepared to leave her for the third time in five weeks… But as he threw the trousers into his suitcase with a little more force than was necessary, Anne felt certainty settle in her mind.

He didn’t want to go. 

Anne was certain again, and now her legs began to move of their own accord, moving her closer to him. All she knew was that she did not like the frown on his face, did not like the frustration in his eyes, and she would do anything to take them both far, far away. 

Phillip looked up at her as he reached for another shirt, though he paused in the motion as she drew closer. His brow furrowed again, but this time from confusion. “Anne, what are you-” 

Before he could even finish the sentence, Anne was swinging her leg over his to sit on his lap, arching her back as she looped her arms around his neck. Phillip’s whole body stiffened in surprise as she did this, but she could feel his arms wrapping around her waist out of second nature. Through the thin material of her practice clothing, Anne could feel the warmth of his fingers against her skin, and it only emboldened her as she allowed her hands to travel higher and wrapped her fingers in his hair. 

Anne was nothing but confident as she brought his face closer, tilting her head to press a brazen kiss to the lips that she knew so well, the ones that were parted in awe. 

Phillip immediately began to kiss her back, with one of his hands pressing her closer and the other moving to gently tug on her bun, pulling her hair free of it. He ran his fingers through her ringlets as their lips danced together in a step that they both knew like the back of their hand. The warm glow that filled Anne Wheeler was warm and shining, brighter than a thousand spotlights as it caused a tingling to spread over every inch of her skin. Phillip moved to deepen the kiss, and it was only then that Anne pulled back. 

Phillip drew in a sharp gasp from inches away, his eyes flying open to scan her face. His lips looked like cherries to Anne, and his cheeks were flushed in the dim light of his room as they both paused for a frozen moment. Slowly, carefully, Anne leaned over to brush her kiss against his ear, and she heard him catch his breath in his throat. It was only then that she allowed a soft whisper to drop from her lips. 

“Take the late train.” 

A soft, husky chuckle left Phillip Carlyle as she pulled away, an eyebrow raised in a challenge as she looked back to him. A smirk played on her lips, and Phillip rose a hand to gently brush the corner of her mouth, leaving tingles wherever his fingertip skimmed across her skin. 

He raised an eyebrow in return, and Anne felt her own heart skip a beat now as he drew her closer. She was locked in his gaze, in his embrace, and her pounding pulse almost drowned out his whispered, “Yes, ma’am.”  


End file.
